Hope
by Spikesterholic
Summary: Takes place between 'Him' and 'CWDP'. An evening at the Bronze and a conversation with a stranger, gives Spike something he thought he'd never feel again. Season 7.


**Hope**

"You sure this shirt isn't too stuffy?" Xander asked with uncertainty.

Willow gave him an eye roll. "You look fine. Now, what about my skirt. Is it too sway-y?"

"Would you two stop? You both look hot." Buffy reassured them.

The three were seated at a table in the Bronze, a beverage placed before them. They had been sulking in Buffy's house an hour before, dwelling on being single, when Dawn had decided to give them a few words of teenage encouragement. After twenty minutes of pondering her advice of 'getting back out there,' they made a quick dash to get changed and were soon making their way to the club, determined to have fun and find themselves a date for the night.

"Ooh, now there's a pretty girl."

Xander's eyes fell to the dance floor, appreciating the view of a gorgeous olive-skinned woman, happily dancing with those around her.

"Definitely a Ten on the hot meter." Willow approved.

"And this is why you're my bestest friend, Will. You and me, when we're seventy, eyeing the sexy geriatrics at the old people's home."

"And where do I fit in, in all this?" Buffy asked with mock offense.

"Why, you'll be the sexy geriatric we're both staring at, with our dementia-filled brains."

This caused all three of them to laugh. The thought of the three of them growing old together laid a warm blanket of love over each of their hearts. They knew the possibility of it happening was very thin, but it gave them something to dream about, something to keep them fighting. Together 'til the end.

"Giles will be the crazy book man, fighting with the nurses over his texts, complaining that their tea is made incorrectly," Willow added.

"Ooh! Dawn can be our smuggler. Sneak us in all the things we can't have," Buffy offered with excitement.

"And Anya will probably teleport in every now and again, looking younger than ever and mocking our wrinkly old bodies."

Xander's bittersweet tone had the two women look at him in sympathy.

"I always imagined growing old with Tara."

The mood of the group was now full of sorrow.

"Hey," Buffy said softly. "We're here to have fun, remember? Not to go over the painful past. We've loved and lost and – now it's time to look forward."

Xander looked to his left, someone catching his eye when he gave an irritated sigh and mumbled a "perfect" before turning his head to the right, looking out at the dance floor again.

Both women were confused and turned to the direction Xander had looked, only to see Spike hesitantly approach the table, glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Hello all." He greeted them tentatively, standing between Willow and Xander, placing his glass onto the tabletop.

Willow and Buffy mumbled a 'hi' back. There was an uncomfortable silence that fell over them. Buffy seemed nervous, glancing from the drink in front of her, to Xander and to Willow and back to her drink. Xander kept his sight on the dancers and Willow looked helpless, unsure of how to act.

"How's patrol?" He asked politely.

"The usual," she offered.

He nodded in understanding. The silence fell over them again, a thick tension stretching out for all to feel. Xander's fingers began to tap on the tabletop and Willow suddenly found her napkin extremely interesting. Spike knocked back the last of his drink, placing the glass back onto the table and idly moved it in a circular pattern. He suddenly stopped his action decided to try and make conversation one last time.

"Can I get anyone a refill?"

Xander spun to face him finally.

"As you can see, we're good. But if we do happen to need refills, _I'll_ be sure to get them," he finished with a spiteful smile.

Spike felt the boy's hatred roll off him in waves. He was not welcome here. He never was. Spike felt like a fool.

"Right," he said gently as he picked up his empty glass, turned and walked away from them, needing to escape the overpowering rejection.

Buffy watched him walk away and place himself at the end of the bar in the darkness, as far away from them as he could get. He looked so defeated; not even a shadow of the vampire he once was. She felt regret, she should have tried to be platonic with him, give him a chance to try and make amends, but she wasn't sure if she should, or if she even could.

"The nerve of that guy."

"He was just trying to be friendly, Xander. Do you have to be so mean?" Willow scolded him.

"He's just gotta understand, Will. Just because he went and got himself a shiny new soul, that doesn't wipe the slate clean. He can't just shimmy on over and think we'll welcome him into the group with open arms."

Neither Buffy nor Willow decided to argue.

"Besides, I'm pissed at him. He left spilt blood in the microwave one too many times today."

Spike was building up a nice bout of self-loathing as the barman refilled his glass. A young girl approached the bar and plunked down in the seat beside him.

"Careful. Too many of those and you'll have a heavy head in the morning," she said with humor.

"That's the plan," he replied, eyes never leaving the glass.

"Ouch."

She mumbled her order to the barman before turning back to him.

"You get dumped for someone else too, huh?"

Spike smirked at his glass. "I'd have to be in with a chance in the first place in order to be dumped, luv," he said as he finally turned to look at her.

She was young, probably a couple of years older than Dawn. She was a chirpy-looking girl, someone he never would have pegged to come and attempt to talk to him. She gave him a knowing sigh as her glass of Coke was placed on the bar.

"Yup. Join the club, buddy," she said with enthusiasm, taking a generous sip of her drink. Spike watched her. There was something about her that made him want to talk. She wasn't flirting, she wasn't coming on to him, she was simply being friendly. He liked it.

"He's seems lonely," Willow mused.

"And the wonderful thing about that is, it's not my problem," Xander told her with glee.

Buffy was becoming uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

"Guys, can we not talk-"

"Oh, God I'm sorry Buff, I didn't mean to-"

"No! No it's not that, it's just-" Buffy knew that Xander's train of thought was heading into dangerous territory. She did not want to start having to explain the almost unmentionable rape attempt that happened a few months before.

"Look, we're all agreed that soulful Spike is a subject we don't know how to deal with, so let's not talk about it," she finished with a chipper tone.

"Agreed. But coming back to Willow's earlier statement, I don't think he's going to be lonely for too long."

Buffy and Willow glanced over towards the bar and saw Spike talking with a woman. Buffy felt a dull slither of jealousy wash over her. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help being envious at how relaxed he looked with the mysterious female. There was no suggestive leers, no perverted smirks or suggestive looks that indicated Spike was flirting. He seemed shy, boyish, and he was smiling. That tender smile she saw only a handful of times and yet, seeing him now, she couldn't help but wish he were smiling at her. Not once did he look over to their direction to see if she was watching him, something Spike would do to show her he was only doing it to get at her. No. By the look of things, Buffy doubted he'd know if she was still in the building.

"Hey! Who's up for some dancing?" Buffy asked, turning to the table with false enthusiasm.

"Count me in, momma!" Willow got up from the table with the others and the three of them made their way to the dance floor.

"He's my best friend. He has been since we were fourteen. He's allergic to peanuts, hates rain, he's saving up to buy a chopper and I've been madly in love with him for the last three years. Oh, and he's gay," she told him as she twirled a straw in her drink, almost child-like.

"Sounds like a right kicker, luv."

"Yuh huh. He left about thirty minutes ago with some stud. I guess I'll hear all about it tomorrow. I'm just waiting for my cousin to come and pick me up. I've strict rules not to go wandering around town at night."

"Some good advice there. Must be a right knife in the gut, having to hear all the sordid details and what all."

"I know I'll never have him. But as long as he's happy, then I'm happy. Even if it means a punch to the heart every now and then. I've gotta get over it some time, right?"

Spike gave her a nod and a smile to show he understood her.

"So what about you?" she asked him.

Spike went silent for a few moments. What about him? How did he explain his situation?

"I did some very bad things, unforgivable things. I hurt the woman I said I never would. I got help and now she hates me."

"That sucks," she offered him with empathy.

"That it does, pet." He suddenly felt more of a monster than he ever had in that moment.

"But you got help, right?"

Spike nodded.

"And she knows you're sorry?"

"Not too sure on that. Even if she does, I doubt it'll make much difference now."

Something unexpected happened in that moment. Her hand rested on the sleeve of his coat. He looked at her, questioningly.

"Give her time. Hopefully she'll see how sorry you are and that you've changed and she'll come around. Us women know how to hold a grudge, but we're not monsters," she offered him.

_No, I'm the monster, _he thought to himself.

A polyphonic noise ruptured from the girl's coat pocket. She plucked a cell phone out and stared at the screen. Putting it back, she turned to him, an apology on her face.

"That's my cousin. She's outside in the car."

"You mind how you go… I didn't catch your name, pet."

She climbed out of her seat to stand beside him and held out her hand.

"Charlotte."

He took her hand and shook it.

"Spike."

She laughed as she withdrew her hand.

"Well, Spike. Thanks for keeping me company. I hope it goes well for you."

And with that, she turned and left. Spike turned back to his drink with a tiny smile.

"Thanks," he whispered.

Buffy walked back to the table as Willow and Xander retrieved their seats. She looked over to the bar to see Spike sitting alone once again. She had the urge to go and talk to him. She didn't know why, but she needed to be over there. With him. Picking up her glass, she turned to the others.

"I'm just gonna grab a quick refill."

She kept her eyes on him as she weaved through the thinning crowd until she stood beside him, occupying the space Charlotte vacated.

"Hey," she offered.

He looked up at her, surprised.

"Hi."

She fiddled with her glass before placing it on the bartop.

"So, where'd your friend go?" She tried to sound as casual as possible, something she found so hard to be around him, lately.

"Home, I suspect." He was hesitant in replying to her. He didn't understand why she had made her way over to him, and he certainly didn't understand why she'd be interested in Charlotte.

Silence fell over them, much like it did hours before.

"Buffy?"

She looked at him once again. She could see he was struggling to say something.

"I know I said I couldn't say it, but I wanted you to know-"

"Spike, I – I can't do this right now."

She saw the hurt and shame fill his eyes. She instantly felt bad for stopping him saying it. She knew he was sorry. He'd willingly gotten a _soul_ to show how sorry he was. But to hear him say it out loud was something different. She couldn't hear it yet.

He turned back to stare at his drink, wishing he'd died in those trials. Wondering why he ever came back here.

"I should get back to the others."

He didn't reply, merely stayed, staring into his glass. She turned to leave before quickly spinning and facing him again.

"Spike?"

He raised his head and faced her, curious as to what blow he would receive now.

"For what it's worth, I know." She offered him a small smile before turning once again and making her way back to her friends.

He couldn't help but stare as she left. Her words, galloping through his mind, mixed in with the advice Charlotte had given him. And he suddenly felt something he thought he'd never feel again: Hope.


End file.
